


Hunter and Prey

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Death Eaters, F/M, Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13253772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “Run, Severus, run. But where are you going to go now that she’s dead?”





	Hunter and Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Even though Lily is referred to as already dead, I've imagined it as taking place before she actually was (because Voldemort would've been dead and Bella wouldn't have been so chirpy).

She walked around him.

Like a jackal with a carcass, that devilish smile of a beast ready to attack.

A beast.

That’s what she was, nothing more and nothing less.

Severus tried not to look at her, hoping that ignoring her would’ve meant she would’ve done the same. But his illusion didn’t last long, and she finally decided to attack.

“Something’s bothering you, Severus?” she asked, lecherous as usual. He pursed his lips, plunging the nails in his hand.

He wasn’t used to answer to taunts, but in that moment all he wanted to do was taking out his wand and _hurt_ her, making her suffer as much as he was. But he didn’t, and not for any mercy toward that animal.

Just, he was tired.

“Why would you think there’s something bothering me, Bella?” he asked her, plain, emotionless. Exactly how he felt.

The woman smiled and kept walking in concentric circles, getting closer to her goal.

“I thought you were mourning the death of that filthy Mudblood, or am I wrong?” she provoked him, she did it because she knew that her words hurt him more than a thousand Cruciatus would’ve done.

And the more he refused to think about Lily’s lifeless body, the more she instilled those images in his head, excruciating, images of a death _he_ had caused.

He stood up, facing the woman. But he didn’t react otherwise and he didn’t answer. He kept quiet and stared at her, aware that she would’ve wanted to see all his rage and his pain, feed on them, because that’s what she drew her power from.

The smile on her face, beautiful and highlighted by her madness, became wider.

“What will you do? Will you curse me? You want to _hurt_ me, don’t you?” she got even closer, she was almost touching him. “Just like you hurt her, uh?” she hissed, with that childish voice Severus abhorred, for it seemed so unsuited to that face, those eyes, to the evil conveyed by everything in that woman.

“And you’d want that. You’d want for me to draw my wand, to fight you just for the sake of making you shut up.” he declared, relishing in the moment he saw her smile dropping, turning into an angry grimace.

“Don’t play with me, Severus. We both know you’d regret it.” on her face, the look of whom has  lost control, of whom has realized that the weapon of despise and torture is not going to work.

And Severus forced himself to continue in the same vein, to show her his pretend carelessness, while inside of him the seed of hate kept boiling, growing, looking to vent into the pain of Bellatrix Lestrange.

He took a deep, yet imperceptible breath.

It would’ve been useless, for she knew no pain but what she caused.

He turned toward the door, far from being challenging and wanting to escape Bella’s accusations, her evil joy, the amusement she felt in catching Severus’ confusion, playing with it to the point of madness.

“Run, Severus, run. But where are you going to go now that she’s dead?” she hissed, her self-importance back there, legitimated by his attempt to escape.

He froze for a moment, then kept walking.

He wouldn’t have allowed her to feed on him, of his carcass, of the pain Lily’s death had caused him.

He wouldn’t have allowed that to anyone; particularly not to a woman who didn’t know what pain meant, who was unworthy of any form of bliss.

He left, turning back one more time to look at her with despise.

As if he was looking in a mirror, for Bellatrix and her hunter’s soul were silently accusing him.

Hating her was an excuse. Because he was the victim.

As well as the executioner. 


End file.
